Regretting the Past, Creating the Future
by theatregrl02
Summary: Blaine is a TA for a music theory class. On the first day Kurt, Blaine's ex, shows up in class. Can they get over the past enough to survive the semester? Future fic  non-AU , M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Cause Célèbre **_(A/N: "cause célèbre" is defined as "a notorious person, thing, incident, or episode")_

There were a few things that Blaine knew when he took the TA job. He knew that (1)the class would be a mix of undergrad and grad students (the university's music theory program wasn't terribly large to start with and, thanks to funding cuts, everything was being smushed together), he knew that (2)he would be younger than some of the students, he knew that (3)this professor was notorious for letting the TAs teach 90% of the lessons, and he knew that (4)it was going to be a lot of work. The morning of the first class he got up way too early, read over his notes about a dozen times, checked to make sure that he had the attendance sheet from the professor, and headed to campus - about an hour and a half early. As he approached the doors to the lecture hall he paused, took a deep, steadying breath, and pulled.

Blaine made his way to the front of the medium sized room, walking slowly, mentally mapping the layout, and finally placed his bag by the desk that sat in the front of the class. Professor Montgomery would be there today, if only for the first few minutes, so Blaine sat next to rather than behind the teacher's desk. He rifled through his papers, reading and re-reading the lesson plan, memorizing the names on the depressingly short class roster, and trying not to neither chug nor spill his coffee. The class started filing in with about 20 minutes to spare, Professor Montgomery joined them just as the clock ticked over to 11.  
>"Good morning class," he said, a tone of utter boredom engulfing his every word. "I am professor Montgomery. This," he indicated Blaine, "is Mr. Anderson, your TA. He will pass out and explain the syllabus and field any questions. Thank you." And with that, he was gone. He hadn't even made it all the way to the front of the room. Blaine smiled nervously and stood - this was his moment.<p>

"Erm, yeah, so I'm Blaine - and please, please don't call me Mr. Anderson. Today we'll just be - " The door in the back cracked open and a head peaked in. A very familiar head. A head that Blaine Anderson would do anything _not_ to see right now. "Kurt?" Every student in the class turned to look now, and Kurt's eyes shot straight up, straight to Blaine.

"_Shit_," he muttered, faking a smile and fully entering the room. "Sorry, had a rough morning, won't happen again," Kurt said, taking a seat as close to the door as possible.

Blaine stood there, dumbstruck, for a minute or two, trying to remember what he was doing, trying to remember what he was saying, trying to remember _anything_ that wasn't Kurt Hummel's face, or Kurt Hummel's skin against his own, or the feel of Kurt Hummel pressed against his back, panting. After a moment he remembered the syllabus, grabbed the stack, and sort of snapped back into reality. "Oh! Sorry, sorry. So, uh, I'll just pass this out and give you a minute to read over it. If you have any questions feel free to ask, but we're not doing anything else today so you can leave." Blaine handed the stack of papers to the student closest to him and stumbled back towards his desk. The class read over the short packet, asking questions from time to time, and, one by one, left the lecture hall. Everyone but Kurt.

Kurt sat there, waiting. Blaine was positive that he'd finished glancing at the Syllabus almost as soon as he'd received it (not that he'd been watching Kurt or anything), but he stayed there nonetheless. He stayed and watched as the others left, careful not to make eye contact with Blaine. And then, when the room was empty save the two of them, he looked up, he met Blaine's eyes, and he smiled - for real this time. It wasn't a "hey, it's great to see you!" smile, nor was it a "you make me happy" smile, and it _definitely_ wasn't a "God I love you," smile. It was the absolute worst type of smile, the smile your ex gives you after making a sudden unwelcome reappearance in your life, it was a "well, this is fucking awkward" smile.

Blaine was the first to speak. "What are you doing here?"

"I was at this school first, if you recall," always the smartass.

"Yes, but what are you doing _here_?" Blaine sighed. 3500 people in the music department and _Kurt_ had to be one of the 30 in his class. "Aren't you a theatre major?"

"Look," Kurt stood, smile gone, "I need the class."

"You aren't on the list," Blaine motioned in the general direction of his papers, trying desperately to prove that this was all some big mistake.

"Probably because I just added it yesterday. My adviser told me there was an open slot and that if I took the class I could graduate early." Blaine scowled. This was not what he needed.

"Fine, but don't expect any special treatment."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Blaine turned his back to Kurt and started gathering his papers. When he turned again to exit he found Kurt still standing there, but ever so slightly closer. When he spoke again his voice was softer, "I'm glad you're doing all right." Blaine didn't reply. Kurt nodded slightly, then turned and withdrew.

"Who said I was all right?," Blaine whispered to the empty room before grabbing his bag and fleeing out the opposite door.

Blaine walked in to his small apartment 20 minutes later he wanted nothing more than to throw himself into his own work and forget about Kurt. The world, it seemed, had a different plan. Blaine dropped his bag by the door and collapsed onto the nearest chair, grabbing his laptop from its place on the nearby counter. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, trying to forget that morning's class, and groaned as he saw the NEW MAIL indicator blinking on his desktop. He clicked, waited for the program to pop up, and groaned louder. 

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" He just couldn't catch a break. There were three new emails sitting in his inbox, and all 3 had to do with Kurt fucking Hummel. The first two were notifications of Kurt's presence in the class, one from Professor Montgomery, the other from Kurt's adviser. "Thanks for the heads up," Blaine muttered sarcastically as he noted that both emails were received some time after 11am. He skimmed them rapidly before deleting them and then sat, debating whether he really wanted to open that last email. He really didn't want to know what Kurt had to say, didn't care if the email said "I still love you, take me back, I'm sorry," didn't really want to hear Kurt's voice in his head any more today.

But this was Kurt and one thing that Blaine hated about himself was the fact that he could never resist Kurt.

_ Blaine,  
>I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for being late this morning, it really won't happen again, and I wanted to let you know that I had no idea you were the TA for this class when I signed up. I promise I don't have some sinister plan to re-enter your life and cause hell with you in class or with your boyfriend.<em>

_- Kurt  
>PS. It was kind of nice to see you again.<br>_

Blaine read the email at least a dozen times, focusing on everything and nothing. Finally he settled on Kurt's comment about his boyfriend. He looked up at the empty apartment and shook his head. Did Kurt expect Blaine to have a new boyfriend? The thought was almost enough to make Blaine laugh. If Kurt was going to send Blaine an email the least he could do was to make it relevant to the class. After all that's why his email had been included on the -  
>wait. Blaine pushed back and jumped from his seat, scrambling to find the stapled packet amongst his multitude of papers. Aha! His eyes scanned the top of the paper quickly. <em>Professor A. Montgomery, Office hours T 3-4. TA Blaine Anderson, Office hours TWTh 12-5, Phone 614-555-5878. <em>His email wasn't on the syllabus. His. Email. Was. Not. On. The. Syllabus. Meaning that Kurt still had it saved somewhere, or still knew it, that Kurt hadn't completely cut Blaine out of his existence. Blaine hated how happy that idea made him, and really hated the smile that found its way to his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine shuddered as Kurt ran his fingertips down Blaine's stomach. Kurt was moving slowly, setting a torturous pace, and Blaine was getting antsy. It had been a while, it had been a long while, since Blaine had been with anyone and Kurt's touch felt wonderful. Fuck, Blaine hated to admit it, and _really_ hated to sound like some cliché romance novel, but Kurt's touch felt like _home_; that familiar feel that was always just right. Blaine's breath hitched as Kurt's hand traveled further, pausing just above the target. Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine's ears and breathed out "I know you've missed me," before gently taking Blaine in his unbelievably soft hands. Blaine groaned in response, could manage nothing else, as Kurt began stroking him, teasing him. Gradually he increased the pace and pressure, coaxing Blaine to release, meanwhile his mouth was pressed against Blaine's collarbone, sucking, biting. "Come for me," Kurt groaned into Blaine's neck. Blaine shook, and woke up with a start.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," he pressed his calloused fingers into his eyes, trying to shake the images and feelings that still lingered. Two years ago Kurt Hummel fucked up Blaine's life by dumping him. Two days ago he pranced back into his life and brought chaos right along with him. Blaine glanced at his alarm clock and, noting the hour, figured he might as well just get up now and take a long, _cold_, shower. The extra time would at least let him prepare for seeing Kurt again in a few hours time.

Yeah, no, it didn't help. When Kurt meandered into the lecture hall - slightly early this time, though not too far ahead of the rush - a flood of images came rushing through Blaine's brain. Some were real, memories of times past, some were shadows of last night's dream, and of those that came before. Blaine took a big gulp of air and dropped into his chair, hurrying to busy himself with something, _anything,_ before Kurt noticed the effect his presence had. Kurt took a seat in the middle of the room at the end of a row; perfect placement not only to disappear into the crowd but also for a quick get away once class was over. At least the whole situation seemed to be just as uncomfortable for Kurt as it was for Blaine, he could take some solace in that. He started busying himself with the papers in his hand, trying to remember what he was supposed to be teaching today, when Professor Montgomery walked in through the side door.

"Blaine," he said, approaching the desk where Blaine was seated, "I've had some unexpected free time crop up today so I will be taking this morning's lesson. Please observe." Blaine gaped at him for a moment, unsure of what to do.

"Um, yes, of course sir," he finally uttered, handing the lesson notes to the professor. Professor Montgomery nodded curtly and walked to the podium at the front of the room. He called the students to order and began droning on in a tone that would make even the most fascinating information unbearably boring - and this was far from the most fascinating lecture. It was the boring, technical stuff that was needed before they got to the more fun parts of Music Theory. Blaine soon found himself tuning out the teacher and scanning the students mindlessly. He noticed a few were nodding off and he smiled to himself. But time and again his eyes were drawn to Kurt; the way his pen rested against his lower lip, the way his eyes squinted slightly when he was trying to understand something, the way he added just a little extra flourish of a gesture as he finished writing something down. The way he pursed his lips just slightly when someone raised their hand to say something mundane and completely unrelated. The way his eyes - oh shit. _The way his eyes widened just slightly and his lips pulled into a smirk when he caught Blaine staring. _Blaine tore his eyes away from Kurt and forced himself to focus for the last 20 minutes of the lecture part of the class.

With half an hour left of scheduled class time the lesson plan called for the students to work on their first, incredibly basic, composition. Professor Montgomery instructed them to pull out their sheet music and begin before strutting to his desk and sitting there. He pulled out a book and started reading. From time to time a student would have a question or an issue and would approach the professor, requesting assistance. Professor Montgomery would, without glancing up from his novel, instruct the students to "ask the TA." Blaine didn't mind, it gave him something to do that wasn't staring at Kurt. Before he knew it there was only one minute left of class. One minute before he could run home and do whatever it took to distract himself from Kurt. One minute until - oh for fuck's sake.

Kurt stood from his seat and began walking towards the desk, eyes fixed on the professor, completely ignoring Blaine.

"Professor, I have a few questions," he said in his angelic "I'm-a-good-student-I-promise" voice. Ironically, it was also the voice he used when he was up to something.

"As Blaine, he can help. I have a prior engagement." Blaine watched in horror as Professor Montgomery stood and left the hall with the rest of the retreating students, leaving him alone with Kurt. Again. Kurt waited until the room was empty to speak.

"I saw you staring at me."

"What do you want, Kurt? There's no way you're _actually _having problems with this assignment."

"No, of course not," Kurt sounded almost offended at the very idea, "I wanted to talk to you."

"Can't you just leave me alone?" Blaine rose from his seat and tried to ignore the fact that Kurt had a good 4 inches on him now. "You have to take the damn class, _fine_, but do you have to do this?"

"Do I have to do what?" Kurt asked, his voice was soft, his eyes tried to convey an innocence that Blaine was positive did not exist.

"Stop it. Just...Fuck Kurt!" Blaine threw the book he'd been holding against the wall. "What do you _want_?" There was a split second where Kurt actually looked scared before he regained his composure.

"I want to know why you were staring at me."

"I was-"

"Don't deny it," Kurt was trying to be coy but it was just coming off annoying.

"Why did you break up with me?" Blaine asked, completely calm. "You never really told me, ya know." Kurt's face sank into a scowl.

"I think you've answered my question, Mr. Anderson," Kurt spat, turning on his heels to leave.

"This is so _unfair!_" Blaine called after him. " You can't just waltz into and out of my life like some goddamn fairy tale whenever it suits you!" He was yelling at an empty room and there were tears fighting to spill. "I need a goddamn drink," he muttered, gathering his papers and dragging himself back home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Drunk Enough To Say I Love You?**

As a rule Blaine avoided the bars on campus. It wasn't that he had something against drinking; he just tried to avoid the students he had to see in his classes. It prevented awkward situations. Today was an exception to that rule.

As soon as he left the lecture hall from his mini-confrontation with Kurt he went straight home and did everything he could think to distract himself. He threw himself into work, studying, everything, but time and again his mind kept wandering to Kurt's eyes, Kurt's hair, Kurt's smile. By 5 Blaine needed a drink desperately enough to head to The Roxy – a crappy little dive of a bar off the main street that Blaine used to frequent in his undergrad days.

By the time Kurt walked in at 10:30 Blaine was, to put it kindly, shitfaced. He was nursing his – God, he'd lost track at this point but probably at least his 7th drink, when the door swung open and Kurt, and his friends, walked in.

Kurt, for his part, was tipsy enough to be sloppy (they'd apparently been pre-gaming, Blaine's alcohol-addled brain noted).

"Are you fucking _serious_?" Blaine said, or tried to say, as his eyes landed once more on Kurt and his impossible perfection. Kurt stopped in his tracks and smiled wide as his eyes lit on Blaine.

"Uh-oh. Party's over," Kurt announced to his crew. "Or – wait. Mr. Anderson, are you _drunk_?" Kurt chuckled when he realized just how far gone Blaine was. Kurt quirked his eyebrow before brushing past Blaine and towards one of the booths in the back. The minutes ticked past, Blaine kept drinking, Kurt kept drinking, neither acknowledging the other.

When Kurt was drunk enough to be brave, or maybe it was drunk enough to not care anymore, he stumbled over to the bar and slid onto the empty barstool next to Blaine.

"Why were you staring at me today?" Kurt slurred.

"Why did you dump me?" Blaine deadpanned, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

"I asked first." At this, Blaine turned to glare at Kurt.

"I do believe I asked you two years ago," his voice was low, dangerous, but tinged with pain and desperation.

"I asked first _recently_," Kurt replied, rolling his eyes and waving off the statement.

Blaine sighed, pressed his eyes shut for a moment, and then turned his whole body towards Kurt. "For the same reason I _always_ stare at you, Kurt." When Blaine opened his eyes they were glazed with drunkenness and honesty.

A look of shock came over Kurt for the extra second that it took his drunk self to regain composure. His face got serious and he gave a curt nod, mulling over this new information, his alcohol-hazed mind taking slightly longer to process. When Kurt said nothing for a moment Blaine spoke again. "Your turn," he said, gesturing towards Kurt and giving a sarcastic and impatient look. Kurt smirked and wagged a finger.

"Nope, sorry."

Blaine was pissed. He stood up from his bar stool so quickly that it knocked over, clanging to the floor, and he had to grab onto the bar, where his alcohol-heavy body wavered, knocking over a few drinks in the process.

"BULLSHIT!" he yelled, grabbing Kurt by the arm, "that's bullshit and you fucking know it!" Kurt, mostly out of reflex, smacked Blaine and jumped out of his own seat, sending it, too, crashing to the ground. The noise attracted the attention of the bar tender who quickly informed the two that it was time to leave before signaling the bouncer to escort them out – and escort them he did.

Once outside Blaine sat himself on the curb, placing his head in his hands and yelling. Kurt dropped next to him and gazed out into the night.

"You scare me," he said in barely more than a whisper.

"_Perfect_," Blaine muttered, assuming Kurt was referring to the incident that had literally just occurred.

"That's why I broke it off." Still Kurt looked straight ahead, off into the distance. Blaine, however, picked his head up off his hands and stared incredulously at his increasingly frustrating ex-boyfriend.

"_Excuse_ me?" at this Kurt finally turned to Blaine. His eyes, the hazel, mischievous, goddamned eyes that Blaine hadn't been able to get out of his mind for near 2 years, were scared. Blaine hadn't seen Kurt his afraid since, god, since high school. Before either of them knew what was going on Kurt closed the gap between them and crashed his lips on to Blaine's. There was a hunger in the kiss, a longing and desire that were perhaps heightened by the alcohol in both their systems. Kurt pulled back and locked eyes with Blaine once more. "Don't _ever_ think I stopped loving you," he whispered before rising from the curb and running in the general direction of his apartment as fast as his drunken legs could take him.

Blaine, now even more confused than earlier, let out a strangled cry of exasperation before once more placing his head in his hands and trying to let his alcohol-saturated mind puzzle out what the fuck was going on.

Friday was awkward. The next week was awkward. The week after _that_ was awkward. It kept being awkward for nearly a month and a half. Kurt was always the last one into the class and the first one out; he never raised his hand (though Blaine was certain he knew all the answers) and he never asked Blaine for help, no matter what. He sat in the back and made himself as invisible as possible.


End file.
